


Nothing I'm running from

by Tita



Series: Oh darling, we're mighty [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, a tidbit of almost smut, basically their whole wedding day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 15:18:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tita/pseuds/Tita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where they get married.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing I'm running from

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so you got past the growing up, hi! I actually begun the big bang with this, didn't know it was gonna be it till after, so enjoy! It is sappy as hell.

"Harry, go back to sleep," Louis mumbles, tugging the sheets up higher and burrowing further into his fiancé's shoulder.

Shy rays of light escape the covering curtains and fall on the messy bed, strewn limbs highlighted in the morning glow. There are birds chirpingoutside but a faint honk drowns out their subtle melodies. It’s around eight in the morning and after opening his eyes briefly to find green ones staring right at him, he tries to fall back asleep to steal a little more of the heat Harry radiates and drown in the sea of white that envelops them.

"Can't," Harry replies, and from behind closed lids Louis feels Harry's hand drifting up and down his arm, a gentle caress that lulls him further into sleep. Arms tighten around him as his consciousness slips before a trail of soft kisses keeps Louis from fully disconnecting from the world.

He hums in protest but shifts so his right leg is thrown over Harry's hips and he can be closer to him. The morning feels lazy, and as Louis blinks slowly he finds Harry's eyes still haven’t left him. Green irises move slowly along Louis' face, and Harry's pink lips twitch up minimally.

"You're so pretty," he hums, his soft voice not piercing the silence but rather enhancing it. "Pretty and all for me."

Louis feels his heart swell at the words, the first vocal reminder that in a few hours they'll be each other's forever. They have to be at the hotel in four hours, and he has every intention of keeping his boy in the bed until then, bugger the outside world. It's their day, and Louis wants nothing more than to spend it wrapped up in the boy he loves.

Louis lifts himself up easily-- powers coming in very handy as he mobilizes himself on the bed-- and plops his full weight on Harry, who is unperturbed by the extra weight. Thrown on top of the pale body, Louis peppers kisses on Harry's shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and feeling Harry's exhales make small hurricanes on his hair.

"We have to get ready Lou," Harry says, but his tone betrays how relaxed and content he really is. Louis still feels victorious for making Harry feel that way, even if he's done it countless times before. They don't get to enjoy this a lot, the stillness and quiet, so they find it in each other, in soft chats in the morning or late night cuddles, in hugs or kisses and sometimes mere glances.

"Aw, come on babe, one more hour," Louis pleads, hands now clutching the sheets around them tightly. He feels Harry's body shake with quiet giggles at his reluctance. "Please," Louis adds, more for Harry's entertainment than his need to stay in bed.

"We'll have all the time in the world to laze around on our honeymoon,” Harry reminds him, and Louis smiles. Three weeks in Rio with sand, waves, Harry and absolutely no obligations. He can't wait.

"Now let's have some tea, yeah?" Harry asks and Louis groans. He knows that if he stays Harry will just draw him out with the heavenly smell of the fry up that is sure to come, so he sighs and clings tighter to Harry's torso.

"Take me," Louis instructs, and Harry lifts him easily, one hand supporting Louis by the bum and another giving him leverage on the bed.There's a smug smile on Harry's face and Louis sort of loves it, how he'll be so proud he can carry Louis even if it is nothing for his muscles.

Laughing softly to himself as Harry maneuvers them clumsily down the hall, Louis extends his hand and trails it against Harry's torso, walking two fingers downward. He knows Harry feels them since he chuckles and shakes his head almost imperceptibly. His expression still makes Louis' smile extend a little bit more, and if his cheeks still flush the faintest of red, no one needs to know.

When they reach the kitchen, Harry doesn't make a move to put Louis down; instead he goes to the fridge and grabs the ingredients as if he doesn't have a twenty-six-year-old clinging to his back like a monkey to its mother.

Louis smiles and lets him go, dropping to the ground and then hopping onto the worktop before Harry gives the next step. He can feel Harry's eyes on him, ever admiring of Louis' speed, even if he knows how it works, has been brought on a run with him and all.

That's the fun thing about them, Harry had once told Louis as they came back from a mission-- they fit, even down to the most genetic aspect of them; their powers. Harry has something Louis doesn't and Louis something Harry lacks. One without the other is much less safe, less guarded against the threat of evil superheroes or against mundane ones like broken hearts or sadness. They guard each other with all they have, and though sometimes they slip, their pieces ceasing to fit for a second, they always fall back together in the end. They can't help it; it doesn't work any other way.

Harry mixes the eggs as Louis looks on, perched on the counter and watching his boy curiously.His nose is painted white due to Harry’s fantastic idea of bopping Louis on the nose while mixing ingredients and he’s too lazy to clean it up. Maybe Harry will lick it off later.

When they’re done, they eat them in the same kitchen, stealing glances over their plates as if they don't already know the other's there. Their plates are left for later while they head off to the bathroom **.**

Harry is going off with Liam in an hour and Louis with Zayn, some silly tradition Harry wanted to honour that Louis had indulged him in. They have to pick up their tuxedos and other things before heading to the hotel and getting ready. They know they won't be seeing each other until they reach the altar, so Louis takes some extra time in the shower with Harry even though they'll take another one in the venue.

He washes Harry's hair very thoroughly, squeezing moans out of Harry that get him uselessly hard, rejected due to another one of Harry's rules; no orgasms until wedding night. Louis particularly resents that one, especially with how Harry is simply beaming today. He thinks he gets now why people say brides glow on their wedding day, though Harry is doing so much more. He's shining, radiating so much joy it makes it hard to stay away, to keep his hands--and cock--in check.

Harry, in turn, soaps Louis up in childlike glee, blowing out the bubbles that form and giggling in a way that has Louis kissing him breathless a second later. They dry each other off and notice how the other gulps and looks away. Louis really doesn't like the no orgasm rule.

Liam arrives first but doesn't manage to get Harry away from Louis until after he has pushed him against a wall and left a red mark as a reminder of what's coming tonight. Both boys leave with blushing faces, and Louis passes the remaining time scrolling aimlessly through twitter and worrying about whether he'll remember his vows or completely screw up.

The buzz of the doorbell interrupts Louis' slow descent into a nervous breakdown several minutes later, amidst the fourth repetition of his vows as he's pacing the floor so fast he thinks he’s left a mark on the rug. Zayn's voice rings through the speaker, and Louis grabs his wallet and other essentials before walking down the stairs and meeting his best man.

"How are you? Feeling the nerves?" Zayn wonders, and Louis goes for a shrug that ends up being a half nod. His heart feels like it's going to beat right out of his chest and Louis thinks the eggs and toast weren't such a good idea after all. It’s still early, he reminds himself. The freakout is for later on andthey've got things to do.

A short drive away is the dry cleaner, and as they hop into the car with the neat tux in the back, Zayn speaks, his eyes not leaving the road..

"You know there's nothing to be worried about, right Louis? Harry loves you a lot, like a really crazy lot and marriage is just his way of showing you that he's committed to you. We'll have fun, yeah?" He says, and Louis nods with a grin on his face.

There's a reason he chose Zayn as his best man, and as his heart slows down a fraction and knees stop bouncing up and down, he's reminded of it. Louis really couldn't have chosen anyone better.

The hotel they picked is one of the biggest in the city, and what had captured them wasn't the size of it, but the beauty. Dreamy windows take up most of the walls in the room, and Harry had begun planning the reception the moment he'd stepped inside, Louis had been able to tell. Now, as they get out of the car and walk up the steps to the door, Louis thinks they made the right call.

They walk by the room where it's going to be held but Zayn blocks Louis' view, wordlessly guiding him to the lift and pressing the floor number. Zayn took care of the hotel room expenses as his wedding present, and the room key is already in his hand. Louis knows that Harry is in an identical room farther down the hall and the mere thought makes his stomach churn painfully. _God,_ he has to calm down.

His own hotel room is nice, decorated with bouquets standing tall in vases and with matching furniture. And Louis likes it, he does, it’s just missing something. _‘Harry’_ his brain answers, but Louis knows he’s being silly and needs to calm down. Just a few more hours and Harry will be his husband. _Husband._ Oh how he needs a distraction.

Luckily there’s a knock at the door, and when Zayn opens it Jay is standing in the hall with her eyes already shiny with tears.

“Baby,” she coos as she surges forward and envelops Louis in a bone-crushing hug. Over her shoulder Louis sees the door open and close by the invisible force Zayn has become. Ever tactful, that one.

His mum is soft and smells like the perfume she’s been wearing forever, and as Louis closes his eyes and hugs her tighter he thinks she might be crying.

“Mum?” He asks, cautious. “Are you alright?”

Jay sniffles and chuckles, her state given away by the crack in her laugh. “I’m just being too motherly here I suppose, but it’s just, you’re _getting married,_ Boo.” She says, holding Louis at an arms length and watching him with eyes that are now wet with unshed tears.

Louis doesn’t know what to say, but guided by the state of his mother he walks them both to a sofa nearby, careful to watch his speed--Jay never liked being caught up in Louis’ speedy runs, said she got dizzy-- and sits her down.

“I feel like it was yesterday that you rushed home, excited because another kid at school was ‘special’ like you. You talked so fast and you were so happy, I didn’t realize you would never stop being like that with him,” She continues, Louis blushing at her words.

“And you are both so brave with what you do and, you know, I used to be terrified when you’d go out and face all those terrible people. But now I know you have someone out there who will protect you with all they have and it makes me feel less scared.”

“Yeah, he makes me feel that too,” Louis nods and then looks up, a feeble attempt to stop his tears. _Damnnit,_ he promised himself he wouldn’t be cheesy on his wedding day.

His mother laughs and so does he, watery sounds that he supposes are better than outright crying. They exchange a few more words and then Jay gets up, brushes off her dress and walks towards the door.

“I’ll let you get ready now while I go see the better groom,” She jokes, and Louis makes an indignant sound before she winks. “Hurry up now, you don’t wanna be late for your own wedding. Bye.” Jay waves and is gone, replaced by a now visible Zayn.

“Just a tip, that trick works better on people who haven’t seen you a thousand times already,” Louis remarks as he goes by Zayn and into the bathroom, earning a pinch in the bum.

“Watch the goods, Malik! Gotta have them in top shape for tonight!”Louis yells as he gets in the shower, and he’s almost positive he can hear Zayn’s eyes roll.

The cold water hits Louis like a train, removing every possible ounce of sleepiness from his mind. It’s a good thing they planned an evening wedding and nightly reception, or else Louis would’ve only been half present in his morning grogginess. The guests will be arriving in an hour and the ceremony starts in two, but Louis takes his time even though his hair is already soft from Harry’s morning wash and he has done nothing all day.

Louis sighs as he wraps a fluffy towel around himself, turns around to help Harry out before he remembers he’s not actually there. It makes him feel smaller, alone in the impressive bathroom that Harry isn’t in.He yearns for the warmth his fiancé gives him but is comforted by the fact that he’ll see him in a little while; ignores how that feels like an eternity.

Grabbing a robe and shaking off the last of his longing, Louis steps out of the room and is stricken by an idea as he spots Zayn. Slowly, he sits on the couch and then slumps down, putting on the saddest stance he can muster.

“Hey, Zayn?” He calls out in a weak voice, theatrics in full swing as his friend comes over to the couch.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you could, uh, make yourself useful and go check on Harry for me? Maybe bring some photographic evidence?” Louis asks, looking up at Zayn in what he hopes is a good imitation of Harry’s infamous puppy face, which always works so well.

“I can just shoot Liam a text,” Zayn deadpans, leaning on the armrest and looking too smug for Louis’ liking.

Louis makes a frustrated noise, even though he knew it was a wild stab.

“Come on, Zayn, I’m going crazy over here,” he pleads, and he sees Zayn’s look falter for a second until a knock interrupts them.

“Who is it?”

“Liam,” calls the voice, and Zayn yells that the door is open.

“I sensed Louis’ fake sadness and desperation from all the way down the hall, so I came to check this side of the wedding. Everything okay?”  Liam asks and Louis feels his face redden.

He knows Liam only feels strong emotions and the idea that his need for Harry is that palpable makes his face burn. He needs to get his shit under control.

Zayn chuckles and it feels an awful lot like laughter.

“Louis has got severe separation anxiety, but yeah, we’re cool,” Zayn answers, and Louis whispers, “Traitor,” face contorted into a frown.

It is ridiculous, really, that he’s being kept from Harry even if he knows that he can run to him--and back--before anyone notices. Louis wonders if what’s keeping him here is the glee in Harry’s face when he’d announced they were doing a traditional wedding. He thinks it probably is, though he’s really fighting an inner urge to just run to Harry and kiss him.

“Just a few more minutes,” Liam says in what is meant to be a comforting tone, but in what universe is an hour and a half just a few minutes?

Louis glares at him as he goes.

Zayn reminds him that it’s time to get ready and Louis feels his nerves spike up again.

As he puts on his trousers, he supposes it feels no different than when he proposed. They’ve been planning this for so long, just like those two months he’d had the ring in his pocket.

He knows how everything will turn out, just as he’d been positively sure that Harry would say yes. But that doesn’t keep the nerves in check, nothing does.

Louis knows he’s already Harry’s, that for him there’s no one else and that they’re already practically married, though they really aren’t and they’re about to be and-- _Breathe, Louis, breathe, go slow, don’t freak out._

He miraculously manages to get his tux on and style his hair into something that resembles orderly before his door opens again.

It’s Jay, whose smile widens impossibly when she takes in Louis’ appearance. He’s just standing there, hands in his pockets and trying to avoid getting emotional because red-rimmed eyes in photographs are not what he needs.

“Oh, Louis,” she exhales shakily as she reaches him, tangling her hands with his and and taking in his whole appearance. “Look at you.”

She guides him to the mirror and stands behind him, hand going to her mouth as a tear falls down her cheek.

“Mum,” Louis mumbles, but Jay shakes her head and fans her eyes, trying to will away the unavoidable.

He’s getting married. Louis “I Don’t Get Attached” Tomlinson is going to marry the love of his life. _Oh god._

It happens fast. Louis thinks about running and then he’s doing it, sprinting up the stairs and onto the roof of the hotel in seconds. The heavy gulps of air are not a result of the run.

Louis isn’t nervous about Harry or about being with him forever, no, he’s gone over that idea thousands of times already. Harry will be there, he _wants_ this to happen so so much but what if, what if he disappoints Harry?

Harry wants the perfect wedding and Louis isn’t sure he can play the part of flawless groom. Sure, he seems confident, but he really needs Harry right now, needs the only source of calm in his crazy life.

Gripping his hair, Louis sits down and stares at the uneven concrete. A hand pats his back and Zayn appears, his worried face inches from Louis’, making the boy scream and scamper away.

The offending boy laughs softly and Louis scowls at him just as he did to Liam.

“What are you doing, Lou?” Zayn asks, concern now present where laughter sat moments before.

“Nothing,” replies Louis, shrugging and trying to seem nonchalant when his stomach is treating his nerves like a punching bag.

Zayn looks at him in _that_ way and Louis caves, sighs nervously before taking a stray stone and playing with it.

“I just don’t wanna disappoint Harry. I know he wants this to go like a fairy tale or something but what if I trip or walk too fast or mess up my vows? He’ll be so sad,” Louis explains, eyes trained on the sky above as he speaks. He thinks he finds solace in the infinite space beyond them, in the many possibilities it offers. Almost like life, he guesses, stretched out and open to anything.

“Louis have you magically forgotten how Harry is? You _know_ he’s crazy about you. Do you think he’ll care if you trip? Honestly, he’ll probably trip himself. Harry wants _you_ Lou, not some imaginary Cinderella shit, that’s why you guys are doing this whole circus, for each other, so just remember that, yeah? Stop being a nervous idiot,” Zayn grins as he ends his speech, looking sideways at the shiny-eyed Louis.

“Do you really think he’ll trip?”

“The kid stumbled when he was holding Autozona’s bomb the other day; I wouldn’t exactly say he won’t tonight, not with how nervous he is,” Zayn answers, shaking his head fondly though Louis clearly sees his smile and his focus is elsewhere.

“He’s nervous too?” he asks, perking at the tease of information.

Zayn nods, smirking while he watches Louis’ face fall when he understands that’s all he’s gonna get. Then Zayn relents and speaks.

“He broke the phone because he was clutching it too hard,” They both laugh, knowing very well how Harry’s strength sometimes gets out of control when he’s excited or anxious.

Zayn then pats his knee wordlessly and helps him get up, the relief obvious on his face when their tuxedos come out of the small escapade unharmed.

They go down the stairs at a normal speed, much to Louis’ dismay because now that the nerves are managed he actually wants the wedding to happen as soon as possible _._ The wedding planner calls them soon enough though, and Louis finds himself walking out of the lift and taking his place behind _the_ doors that will lead him to Harry and to-- _gulp--_ the rest of his life.

Louis’ sisters are standing in order ahead of him, their aqua dresses ( _“It’s a mix of our eye colours Lou, it’s brilliant!”_ ) neat and hair styled beautifully. They all smile as Jay comes to stand next to him, her pale dress contrasting nicely with Louis’ classic tux and dark aqua tie ( _“It ties it all up.”_ “You’re terrible.” “ _Please, for me?”_ )

“Ready?” She asks, lacing her arm though Louis’ and looking him in the eye with her gentle manner.

Louis nods and then it’s happening.

The doors open and the girls walk in a line, scattering white rose petals and smiling with their toothy grins at the rows of guests. Charlotte is the last one before them and before Louis can process it, he’s being led by his mother down the aisle and straight into Harry’s line of vision.

There’s a split second where he just stares but then the world resumes its turns but slower, somehow. It’s no different from how running at his top speed is, with everyone around him blurring and only a single path clear.

At the end of that path stands Harry, his large hands clasped behind his back and dimples in full swing as he flashes his megawatt smile at Louis. It makes sense, that the only path he has is Harry, knows it has been like that from the very first day he came across the dorky boy playing with blocks as he smiled at Louis. He can feel himself advancing, his mother’s arm around him and the music playing, but all of that is secondary to how Harry’s looking at him, with his green eyes trained exclusively on him and a smile that’s private even in the middle of a crowd.

When they reach Harry, Jay kisses both of Louis’s cheeks and smiles at the waiting groom as she lets go of Louis’ hand. She goes off to the side as Harry and Louis step closer to each other, small, private smiles and twinkling eyes matching.

“Dear friends and family, we are gathered today to celebrate the union of Louis William Tomlinson and Harry Edward Styles…” Niall begins seriously, and Louis drinks in every word, etches every detail into his memory.

He knows they’ll have it all on camera, but memories carry with them the feeling, and he never wants to let go of the _rightness_ he feels right now, how the world simply fits for a moment.

“Let’s proceed to the vows,” Niall says, gesturing for Harry to begin and smiling himself.

Harry sniffles once and then laughs softly at himself before locking eyes with Louis and beginning.

“They say vows are promises, Lou, that I should list all the things I’ll never do and the ones I will, but see, I can’t do that with you, because you’re always prompting me to do more, to take chances at what I fear. And with you fear just doesn’t exist. _No_ , when we’re together I only have space for joy because all the other things are too dim in comparison to your smile. We don’t complement each other, we _highlight_ each other and with you I feel like the best I can ever be, too bright to let the dark in,” Harry takes a shaky breath, smiles softly.

“I get to keep you forever now, and I sort of wish I could lock you inside my heart and keep you all safe and to myself but that wouldn’t be fair to the world or to you because you dare all of us to be better by leading by example. And honestly? I just want to follow you forever.

So that’s my only promise: presence. I’ll always be where you need me, so when you put on that ring you have to know that it will always reflect an image of me because I’ll always be walking alongside you, even if you have no idea of where to go.”

Harry is in tears by the end of his vows, and Louis is too. He can’t really help it when he takes a step forward and pecks him softly on the lips, rules be damned.

Niall smirks and coughs softly at his left and Louis bites his lip as he takes out the square of paper he’s been carrying around for the past month. Over the top of it, he can see Harry’s eyes clearly and they puddle with fresh tears as soon as he begins.

“I’d tried writing this many times in the months prior, even had an idea when I dropped down on one knee and proposed. But it was hard, and not because I didn’t have things to say, believe me I could go for a day about your eyes only”--there’s a soft chuckle through the audience-- “But because whenever I need something I go to you.

I used to run away to desolate places to solve those kinds of problems, but now? They’re useless, because the one thing I need isn’t there but at home, watching Nat Geo in those joggers that you know I’ll steal later. So I’m going to keep it simple, and say I love you with the intensity of all the times I’ve said it combined. That I know you carry as much of me as I do of you, and that you’re my best friend above all, so I trust you with the heart I placed in your hands the day we met.”

Louis’ voice cracks as he speaks the last sentence while looking Harry in the eyes, whose tears now flow freely down his cheeks. He has never looked more beautiful than now, moved by the truths Louis couldn’t keep bottled up.

“Now, do you, Louis William Tomlinson, accept Harry Edward Styles as your lawfully wedded husband, through the good and the bad, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Louis says, nodding along as if he couldn’t agree to it more.

“And do you, Harry Edward Styles, accept Louis William Tomlinson as your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Harry confirms **,** the sweet words echoing in Louis’s smile as Niall gives them the okay with an impressive grin and then they’re kissing, softly and then not so much, consumed by the idea that they’re officially together forever now.

  


The celebration flows into the reception seamlessly, Harry and Louis brushing off stray pieces of rice as they enter the party after the pictures. People clap animatedly and there are some suspicious whistles coming from their friend's tables.

As they sit down at the main table, Louis tries to look around but his eyes keep drifting towards Harry. He looks so _beautiful_ in the soft cast light of the room, features accentuated by the glow that radiates from within, that Louis can’t help but scoot closer and peck him on the cheek.

Harry turns around and smiles-- or, rather, smiles bigger, because they haven’t stopped grinning since the ceremony.

“Hi,” he whispers, green eyes locking with Louis’. And it’s happened again, the whole room full of people has faded and there’s only them, irises glinting with affection.

“Hey,” Louis whispers back, heart about to explode with how much he loves this silly boy with stars in his eyes.

Someone chooses that moment to clink glasses together and they both chuckle before Louis tugs Harry lightly by the neck and brings their mouths closer. They kiss softly, lips barely pressing together, simply because Louis doubts he’d be able to control himself otherwise.

The food is served in between laughs, cheers, and, to Harry's delight, clinking glasses. Every table is filled with soft chatter and every once in a while, someone nears the table and gives them their best wishes, making Louis grin madly and Harry blush the prettiest of pinks.

When the dessert--brownies and ice cream, per Louis’ insistence---is served, everyone digs in gladly, but Louis pauses and stares at Harry for a second just to make sure he’s still there. It’s very silly because he _knows_ that Harry will always be there, but it’s all so surreal that he feels the need to make sure every once in a while.

Harry’s analyzing the dessert, cutting off a small piece of the chocolatey chunk and attempting to scoop up some ice cream with it. One of the two components always seems to fall, so Louis cackles softly and bats Harry’s hand away, picking up his own spoon and making the perfect bite. He finds Harry with his mouth wide open, waiting, and Louis tries very hard to keep thoughts clean as he smirks and eats the spoonful himself.

His husband-- _oh God, he gets to say that now, actually say it_ \--frowns, and Louis coos at his face for a second before gathering a new spoonful and feeding it to Harry, who chomps on it happily and throws Louis one of their private smiles.

Then it’s time for speeches and Liam goes first, smoothing out his suit and coughing lowly before starting.

“Harry and Louis aren’t the most conventional of couples, but they’re the best I’ve seen. They met in the most absurd conditions, on a ‘superhero’ meeting at playschool of all places, and I remember their faces that day as each went home with toothy smiles and wide eyes.They knew something had happened, we all did, and I suppose we were right since we’re all here at this lovely venue. Every day they prove to the world, and to themselves, how good having someone is and I wish them a thousand forevers.”

When Liam is done, everyone claps and so do the grooms, smiling at each other and then at Liam.

Niall gets up and announces that he goes next, Louis bracing himself for what he’ll say. You never know with Niall.

“I remember the day Louis realized he loved Harry,” Niall says, smiling devilishly at Louis who groans. Not _that_ story.

“We were out trying to get some guy or other into jail and all of a sudden Louis froze, forgot all about our mission as he stopped running and smiled. It was kinda creepy mate, but you just stood there like a possessed doll or something, all calm and serene, while chaos surrounded us. That’s why I know you’ll never stop loving each other, because Louis would’ve never stopped running for anyone else. Because you were the first one he waited for, Harry, and knowing Louis, he will walk at what he calls ‘snail’s pace’ forever if it means it’s next to you.”

Everyone cheers for Niall and then for the couple, clinking glasses a second too late as Harry had already brought their mouths together.

“I do not walk at a snail’s pace,” Harry protests quietly when they separate by mere inches.

“You do, love,” Louis kissing him once more before Harry can complain.

Zayn doesn’t make a speech, simply because he wrote his down in every invitation. It’s a poem etched in gold in every envelope, and they had both been incredibly moved by his words as he’d shyly presented it.

( _And they love with unmatched passion, blazing stars we get to watch pass, a single entity shining for as long as it may last_ )

The music begins, and Harry stands up first, offering his hand to a blushing Louis who accepts it. It’s their first dance as husbands, and they've chosen “Still The One” by Shania Twain, which Harry had proposed and Louis had accepted after remembering it was what Harry called ‘their song’ and which he loved.

Harry leads them to the dance floor and Louis knows he’s secretly thankful for the dance lessons he suggested they get beforehand. Louis places his free hand on the back of Harry’s neck, playfully tugging at the short curls there and watching curiously as Harry’s fingers cover most of his own hand.

They sway softly to the music, and Louis rests his head on Harry’s chest listening to the quiet heartbeat there. It’s the most precious sound in the world to him, the constant _thrum thrum_ that means his better half is alive, and as close as he needs him to be. It’s calm in the small space he has carved next to Harry, and as Louis closes his eyes and breathes in the smell of happiness, he can feel Harry’s breath hitch from where he has his cheek against Louis’ hair.

Curious, he looks up and finds Harry’s green eyes glossed over.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, mildly alarmed. Harry chortles and looks at Louis.

“Nothing,” he answers, waves at a passing couple before locking eyes with Louis again. “I’m just so happy right now.”

Louis’ face softens and he leans back against Harry’s chest, snuggling closer just as he did this morning. It doesn’t feel any different, any less safe than it did then, and it makes Louis smile at his previous nerves that seem so silly now. Nothing feels changed, but at the same time he knows something shifted, that Harry is officially his husband for the rest of their lives and that there’s a new giddiness that refuses to budge.

One song dissolves into the next, a string of beats that grows progressively more as the guests become drunker. Cocktails flow freely, and by eleven o’clock most of the guests are pissed out of their minds, or at least on their way.

Harry and Louis are pleasantly buzzed, stomachs full of a wedding cake that has long since turned into a private icing war between them. They dance with their arms up in the air until Niall goes by, laid back and floating mindlessly in the air as he eats a piece of cake.

“Lads,” He salutes as he goes by while Harry and Louis laugh at the absurdity and keep dancing, closer and closer with each song.

They both know that each passing minute means they're closer to getting a room alone and finally being able to do something about how attractive they think the other looks, which doesn’t help their closeness or keep the heavy-lidded looks at bay. The party is slowly dwindling down, and the wedding planner approaches them to confirm the wedding suite is ready a few minutes after Niall had passed out on a table.

Louis looks at Harry expectantly, is ready to go out sprinting and tug the other boy along, but suddenly the earth is tilting and his feet lift off the ground.

“What the-” Louis swears before he is sat down on Harry’s bicep.“Harry, put me down!” He exclaims from his high perch.

Harry laughs and shakes his head, walks a few steps in what Louis supposes is a fancy gait. Huffing, Louis crosses his ankles and watches people’s amused faces. They must be quite a spectacle, a lanky boy holding his husband with only one arm while Louis waits with a smile that he cannot keep off of his face.

When they reach the door they realize there is no way it’s tall enough, so Louis is reluctantly put down. The planner gives a key card to them and their friends have gathered around to say their goodbyes.

“Have a good honeymoon, Boo,” Jay says, while Anne pats their cheeks and advises “safe fun is good fun boys, we’ll miss you,” while Harry and Louis nod with barely pink cheeks. The boys crowd around them, and Niall whispers in their ears. “Don’t forget the night is for sleeping too.” They shove him playfully as Zayn smirks and Liam scolds him.

Waving one last time, and getting a chorus of mismatched, drunken cheers, Louis and Harry leave the room with one last glance, eager to get to the wedding suite.

The lift doors barely close before Louis appears next to Harry, beaming when the boy looks dizzy at the blur of movement, and then rapidly burying a hand in Harry’s curls and bringing their mouths together.

The kiss is nothing like the ones they’ve shared all day; this is hot and messy and desperate _._ Harry’s hand on Louis’ lower back, pulling their bodies closer and making Louis groan when he feels how warm and inviting Harry is.

The lift door pings open just as Louis curls his tongue around Harry’s and they separate with a loud huff, Harry picking up the smaller boy and flinging him on his shoulder. Louis laughs and rearranges himself so he’s draped on top of Harry’s back with his legs wrapped around him, the position proving useful when Louis’ mouth falls on the juncture of Harry’s neck and shoulder.

Louis kisses the skin softly, not unlike he did this morning, but then opens his mouth and bites down hard, relishing the groan Harry makes. Giggling, he lets go and tongues along the marks he left there, moving on to another spot and nipping lightly.

“Fuck, you’re a menace,” Harry admonishes as he misses the card slot for the second time. Louis punctuates the scold with a soft lovebite **,**  and Harry makes a frustrated sound just before the card fits.

Harry doesn’t take them far though, simply grabs Louis by the thighs and flips him around so he can push his back against the door. His mouth is on Louis’ neck right after, the revenge making Louis’ back arch off the door and his hands to fly up to Harry’s curls again, pulling mercilessly.

When it’s been too long, Louis uses his hand on Harry’s hair to pull him into a kiss again, wasting no time in slipping his tongue into Harry’s mouth and tracing the roof of his mouth to make Harry gasp. They’re both fully hard in their trousers by now, either a result of the anticipation or the kissing, Louis isn’t sure, and he can feel Harry’s dick rubbing against his in the most delicious way.

Hastily, he pulls at Harry’s coat and manages to drop it to the ground before Harry’s separating his back from the door to get Louis’ off, pleased sounds escaping their busy lips.

The angle isn’t the best, though, and they both become fed up at the same time as Harry grips Louis tighter and carries them to the bed, all while Louis bites softly at his lip and soothes over with his tongue. He is thrown lightly onto the bed and Harry crawls over him slowly, green eyes roaming Louis’s body appreciatively.

With their hearts pounding, they take a short moment to quietly stare, take each other in in ways too private to be done before. Harry’s face is inches from his now, but instead of capturing his lips, Louis holds back for a second so he can catch the lazy smile Harry is giving him. The way his hair is messy from leftover gel and his own hands doesn’t slip by Louis’ gaze and neither does the abused look of Harry’s lips.

It is then that Louis thinks _wow, we’re about to have sex as husbands for the first time_ and nerves start to build until Harry’s eyes twinkle, and he remembers that nothing about them has changed. Harry still loves him as he did yesterday and the fact that they’re legally each other's now shouldn’t change how they work. They’re the same teens that sneaked out at night to snog under trees and count stars, only now with eyes more knowing and rings to prove their unending love.

As a reflex, he smiles, always does when Harry looks at him with those eyes, and Harry bows down to kiss him, the previous spark resumed. He doesn’t try to dominate Louis but instead holds him loosely, limbs knowingly relaxed when Louis flips them over, smirks into the kiss because he can do this, be in charge with someone who could choose not to let him be.

His neglected erection is starting to ache for release, and Louis breaks the kiss to go down Harry’s chest, trail the tattoos he has seen in a thousand lights and adorns them with newly red marks to prove his journey. Harry squirms below him, and Louis latches onto a nipple, swirls his tongue around the bud and then sucks softly, the whines he gets as a response shooting straight to his dick.

He can feel Harry getting impatient by the way he keeps bouncing his thighs, trying to draw attention to the area that Louis ignores in favour of moving onto the next nipple and applying the same treatment. This time, though, he nips softly at it and Harry’s hips shoot upward, back curving off the bed as a response, their crotches grinding together for a second before his back hits the mattress again and he groans, low and delicious.

This time Louis decides that it’s enough, that he can move on lower and get things going slightly faster, but he still kisses down Harry’s pale skin, sucks lightly at the “might as well” on his hipbone. His lips stop at Harry’s trousers, still on and creating stark contrast with his pale skin. Louis takes the zip in his hand and pulls it down softly, tugs first at one leg and then at the other until it’s completely off and lying in the dark corner of the room.

*****

When they’re lying on the bed, sheets rumpled around them and fresh out of the shower, Harry’s head is lying on Louis’ bare chest, his tanned hand playing with his curls.

They’re content for the moment, satisfied with just lying there and _being_ , basking in the idea that they’re LouisandHarry now, that a certificate now honours their commitment.

“I’m glad you didn’t trip,” Louis says lazily, his hand tugging and releasing a curl, the smile on his lips one of childish glee.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shushes, shakes his head to himself as his smile turns fond.

“You’re weird,” Harry states, the same thing he’d said when they’d been in playschool.

“Yeah, but you love me,” Louis shoots back, glad he can say that now, all these years later.

Harry looks up and meets Louis’s eyes.

“Forever.”

 


End file.
